Where all men think alike, no one thinks very much. We cannot be contented because we are happy, and we cannot be happy because we are contented. Prose on certain occasions can bear a great deal of poetry; on the other hand, poetry sinks and swoons under a moderate weight of prose. Men, like nails, lose their usefulness when they lose direction and begin to bend. People, like nails, lose their effectiveness when they lose direction and begin to bend. |